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<title>it's not theirs (to speculate if it's wrong) by sorryforthedead</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23836090">it's not theirs (to speculate if it's wrong)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorryforthedead/pseuds/sorryforthedead'>sorryforthedead</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Coming Out, Eventual Faberry, F/F, I once again said time to study Quinn Fabray, Internalized Homophobia, The Fabrays suck but who is surprised</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:21:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23836090</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorryforthedead/pseuds/sorryforthedead</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s their love that really makes her think maybe she could love a woman, and it’d not be wrong. Her eyes drift to Rachel, the girl she’s stopped bullying, because she didn’t like who she became, and she’s glad that she’s not looking at her, because if Rachel’s eyes met hers, she’s afraid they’d tell the whole story.</p><p>or</p><p>Quinn Fabray's journey to acceptance</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>160</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it's not theirs (to speculate if it's wrong)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello my friends I am once again back with another faberry oneshot. This was something I just couldn't stop thinking about, and when my dear friend Sam started reading it, they begged me to finish it too. And so here it is, and as I type this they're literally watching me do it. Discord screen share is fun! There is a bit of homophobia in this, so if that will trigger you, be weary, but its overall very minor. I hope you all like this as well!! Comment and kudos if you did :)</p><p>Once again the title is from Ours by Taylor Swift and I do not own that song nor do I own Glee, any of its characters or plotlines mentioned!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time she hears words that cut in a way she didn’t really understand at first, she’s eleven years old. They’re sitting at the dinner table, her sister Frannie on her left, looking utterly impatient, and her parents across from them. Russell is loudly talking about some business transaction he went through, as if either of his young daughters or wife cared, but it’s then that it happens. “And those Berry men,” he says gruffly, “I hate having to work with them. It’s just not right.”</p><p>Quinn’s mother’s face scrunches uncomfortably at the name, like just those words make her unhappy. “The fact that they got married and took his last name,” Judy says, sounding annoyed, “why do they feel the need to flaunt it?”</p><p>Quinn isn’t sure what they’re talking about but she watches her father’s face twist into a grimace. “It’s so wrong, I can’t believe they let <em>them<em>,” and he says it with such bite it almost scares Quinn, “get married. Like it isn’t an abomination, like the bible doesn’t clearly say a man who lies with another man deserves to be stoned. It’s disgusting.”</em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Something about those words makes Quinn’s stomach sick, and she immediately asks to leave the table.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>///</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She’s fifteen when she realizes why those words had cut that deep. Quinn Fabray herself was gay, and even at eleven, she certainly had an inkling of how she felt for other women. Of course, this wasn’t something she’d admit to anyone, her parents’ words on the Berrys had only gotten worse since that day, and well, Quinn was starting to believe them. Maybe the way she felt was wrong, maybe who she felt she was was condemning her to a life of sadness that ends in Hell. So, she takes her anger out on Rachel Berry.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The girl is gorgeous, Quinn knows because every time she sees her, her stomach turns a little. She’s also extremely talented, as Quinn knows from every video she’s watched again and again, acting like her only intention is leaving mean comments. None of this matters to Quinn though, because Rachel Berry makes her feel some kind of way, and her dads are the ones that Quinn’s parents have talked about for years, and that can’t continue to happen, so she torments her. Endlessly. Without reprieve. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She orders slushie after slushie, leaves mean comments on video after video, and laughs with Santana and Brittany as she draws pictures of Rachel on the bathroom walls, trying to ignore how all of this felt. Like she was becoming someone she didn’t want to, just because of a few harsh words from her parents. She desperately ignores it.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>///</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She’s seventeen when Santana gets outed, and she can’t help but feel for her. It’s the worst situation imaginable, and she can see the hurt in Santana’s eyes as she says something snarky to Kurt and Blaine. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Her heart aches for Santana as she lives her worst nightmare, but she also watches as Brittany clasps her hand around Santana’s and never lets go. It shakes her a little, the magnitude of it all, the love in the action. It’s that very moment that allows Quinn to let go for a second, and see that maybe, just maybe, the feelings she had weren’t bad. How could the soft kiss Brittany presses to Santana’s cheek as she wipes away a tear be wrong? It’s their love that really makes her think maybe she could love a woman, and it’d not be wrong. Her eyes drift to Rachel, the girl she’s stopped bullying, because she didn’t like who she became, and she’s glad that she’s not looking at her, because if Rachel’s eyes met hers, she’s afraid they’d tell the whole story.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>///</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>At seventeen the feeling that maybe she might be able to someday love a woman without fear, without feeling <em>wrong<em>, slips away a lot faster than she had hoped. Frannie comes home for Christmas, and she hears the rumours about Santana and Brittany, even if they’re not really rumours any longer, and relays the information to their parents. Quinn’s friends were lesbians. </em></em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Quinn wishes she hadn’t expected the berating she receives, wishes she didn’t know she was bound to hear those horrible words spoken about her friends, about two teenage girls who haven’t done anything other than dare to love each other. It hurts Quinn, more than either her mother or her father could ever know, and all the hope she had for a one day normal future slips from her mind faster than it ever came. To them, to her family, she would always be wrong.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>///</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>She gets to Yale at eighteen, and realizes this is the farthest she’s been from her parents in her entire life. The farthest she’s been from the Lima rumour mill and all those homophobic words from people who didn’t know they were attacking not only her friends, but her.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Quinn takes this as an opportunity. Sure, she certainly believes the way she’s feeling is wrong, but it’s also something she knows she can’t change, so she takes it in stride. She begins going to the gay clubs around New Haven, she begins to kiss girls, she acts on feelings that if her parents knew she had, she’d be disowned. It feels so good, but she also can’t help but feel ashamed. It still feels wrong, as much as she wishes it didn’t.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Quinn still doesn’t tell anyone she’s gay.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>///</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>She’s nineteen, and curled up on the couch of Kurt, Santana, Brittany, and Rachel on a weekend getaway to New York City. She’s beside Rachel, a bowl of popcorn in their laps, and some musical Rachel loves on screen. It’s just the two of them, Kurt out at some party with one of his classmates, Santana and Brittany on a date somewhere, and Quinn feels more comfortable in that moment than she has in her whole life. So comfortable that she takes a leap she has struggled to take her whole life. “Rach?” she says, her voice soft and full of nerves.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>The other girl looks up at her, her eyes filled with concern, and reaches out to pause the movie. “Everything okay, Quinn?” Rachel asks, and her words are so soft and kind that it sends butterflies through her stomach.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Yeah,” she breathes, “I just have something I want to tell you. Something kind of big. I haven’t really even told anyone else.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Rachel scooches closer to her then, taking her hand, “Whatever it is, it’s okay, I won’t judge you.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>The words make her smile, and she takes a deep breath before she says words she has literally never spoken aloud, not even to the girls she had gone out with at Yale, “I’m gay.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Rachel gasps a little. “Really?” she asks, and even though it sounds shocked, it’s not at all full of malice, it feels a lot more like soft wonder.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Yeah,” Quinn says, and she can’t believe she actually said the words, after all this time.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>Rachel scrambles across the couch, pulling Quinn into a hug, wrapping her arms tight around her middle. Quinn’s almost surprised by the contact, but she eases into it, falling comfortably into Rachel’s arms. “I am so proud of you, thank you so much for telling me,” Rachel says the words into her ear, her breath hot on Quinn’s neck.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>It feels so fucking nice, the way she was accepted like that, but also, just the feeling of Rachel, that close. They’re silent again for a moment, before Rachel says, “You know, I think I’m bisexual, so I guess we’re in this together.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>It makes Quinn laugh.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>She tells their other friends the next morning, with Rachel at her side, her hand on Quinn’s leg. It’s this that makes Quinn think again, like she had in high school, that falling in love with a woman couldn’t be that wrong, especially when that woman was Rachel, and her words were supportive and her smile so loving.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>///</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>She’s still nineteen when she decides it’s time to tell her family the truth. She knows that it’s not going to be okay, especially not with her father, and probably not with her sister either. Her mom is the wild card, they had been a lot closer since her accident, but she’d only ever heard words of hatred coming out of her mouth about people like Quinn. She finds though, if they disown her, that’s fine. Quinn hates that this has to be her life, but she had told Rachel’s dads the night before, when she’d had dinner with them, and they had told her they always had a place for her. It had made her feel so wanted, and when she had looked across at Rachel, and the love shining in her eyes, though platonic, had made Quinn feel once again as if nothing could be less wrong than loving Rachel.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>It happens when they’re at family dinner, Thanksgiving 2013. She knows she probably should’ve picked any other weekend, but when were the four of them ever gonna be in a room together again? She does it over dessert, once Frannie’s son has gone to play in the living room, and her husband has gone upstairs for something. “Mom, Dad, Fran, I have something to tell you.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“What is it baby?” Judy asks, playing with the napkin on the table.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>She takes a deep breath and looks at the three people she likely will never see again. She tries for a moment to be anything other than utterly terrified, but she can’t, she can’t even be upset over anyone other than her mom, because god when was the last time her father had been a dad, or Fran had been a real sister to her? She just really hoped she could get out of there before the repercussions got violent. “I’m gay,” Quinn says, and it’s only like the fifth time she’s ever said it, but it is absolutely the scariest.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>The silence lasts far too long, but she can see the fear growing in her mother’s eyes and the anger building in her dad’s. Frannie just looks indifferent. “Quinnie, you’re not gay,” Judy says, and it hurts.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>She perseveres though. “I definitely am, mom,”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“It’s a phase,” Judy attempts again.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“An almost ten year long phase, sure,” Quinn says and Judy gasps.</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Quinn, why do you think it’s okay to bring this up? Max is in the other room,” Frannie says, “He could hear.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>“Because this is my life, Frannie,” Quinn says cautiously, “and there is absolutely nothing Max can’t hear, as there is nothing wrong with being gay.”</em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>She says it with more confidence than she ever imagined she would, especially since every time she kissed a girl something screamed in the back of her mind how <em>wrong<em> it was, how she was gonna end up in hell. Frannie frowns. “Well you certainly know that is not true,” she says, Russell nodding right along with her.</em></em></em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>“It’s that Berry girl isn’t it?” Russell finally speaks up.</em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>Quinn’s stomach bottoms out, because of fucking course it’s Rachel, it’s always been Rachel, but how would he know that? Was she that obvious? “Her fathers and their disgusting lifestyle tainted her, and now she’s tainting you. Convincing you this is who you are, and that you are like <em>them<em>,” he says it with such a sneer, reminding Quinn of that day, when she was eleven, when the Berrys had first gotten married and had apparently flaunted it because LeRoy had changed his name.</em></em></em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>“It’s not Rachel, dad,” she says, and it feels almost like a lie, “I’m gay, simply because that’s who I am.”</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>The cool layer of calm laying just over top of Russell’s simmering anger scares the shit out of her and she’s tempted to leave right then, but Judy’s looking at her with such sad eyes, so full of love and fear, even though Quinn knows her mom doesn’t like this, that she believes Quinn will find a man, it’s the most support she’s felt all night so she turns to her. “Mom…”</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>“No,” Russell says, slamming his fist on the table, “Out. You’re not my daughter, and I want you out of my house now. Never come back.”</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>Quinn nods, that’s exactly what she expected, and she finds she’s less upset than she thought she’d be so she leaves. She throws on her coat and walks right out into the cold, climbing into her car and driving back to the Berrys like she always expected she would tonight. She had no misgivings, she knew that this was it for her being a Fabray.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>She knocks on the door, and Rachel opens, pulling Quinn into a hug immediately. She knows how it went, she can see it in Quinn’s eyes, but Quinn finds this hug is what she needs. She needs to hold Rachel in her arms, and she needs to be supported by people she knows love her. Quinn walks them into the house, pulling the door closed behind them, but never lets go of Rachel, holding onto her like a lifeline.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>Once she’s inside the warmth of the house, she buries her face in Rachel’s neck and just inhales the sweet smell. It washes over her and calms her. She knew what was coming tonight, and so the kickback of it all sucked, but in Rachel’s arms it doesn’t feel that bad.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>She sleeps in Rachel’s bed that night, instead of in the guest room. Rachel holds her tight, never letting go, and Quinn knows that, god, this feeling of overwhelming love for the girl beside her, could never ever be wrong.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>///</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>She’s twenty-one when her best friends get married and she and Rachel are the bridesmaids. It’s a wedding she could have never have said she’d ever attend, even at fifteen, and yet she couldn’t be more excited. Britt and Santana had fought over her for their maid of honour, but had finally decided Quinn would be Brittany’s and Rachel would be Santana’s with the added bonus of Tina on Brittany’s side and Kurt on Santana’s. </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>It’s a gorgeous wedding, between two people who love each other more than anything. Quinn looks at them, and tries to remember if she’d ever seen someone love another person as much as Santana loves Brittany, her parents certainly had never felt that way about each other.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>Across the altar, Quinn can see Rachel, and she looks gorgeous in the deep green dress that Brittany and Santana had picked, and Quinn thinks maybe she loves Rachel as much as they love each other.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>She watches as they profess their love, exchange rings, and kiss, and Quinn is so glad she knows in that moment, that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the way Santana and Brittany love each other.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>///</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>She’s almost twenty-two when she heard words she never thought she would hear. “I have feelings for you,” Rachel had said, leaving Quinn shocked and awed, on the very couch she had sat on when she had come out to Rachel.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>“I’m sorry, what?” Quinn says, the pure surprise of this moment overwhelming her. </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>“I have feelings for you. Like romantic, I want to be your girlfriend, would like to kiss you and hold your hand type feelings. I understand if you don’t feel the same way and would like to continue being friends, I would be fine with that, but I would also be so happy to be with you, so uh, if you want that please let me know but also don’t feel pressured or anything because I don’t want you to think you hav—” Quinn cuts her off.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>“Rachel stop. I have feelings for you too,” she says, taking a deep breath, “I think I have for a long time.”</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>Rachel looks at her, looking just as awed as Quinn imagines she is. “Seriously?” </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>“Yes?” she says, a little confused as to what to say to that. It wasn’t like she would lie to Rachel now. </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>“Wow,” Rachel says, immediately leaning in, “would it be okay if I kissed you?” </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>“More than,” Quinn says, following Rachel’s lead, waiting for her to close the distance.<br/>
It’s a kiss she’s been waiting for since she was fifteen, even if she didn’t know it. The butterflies she gets in her stomach even just looking at Rachel multiply and flutter about and it’s easily the greatest kiss Quinn has ever experienced. She kisses Rachel with the fervour of ten repressed years, of seven years of unexplained feelings, and just pure love for her. </em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>It’s the first time kissing a girl doesn’t feel wrong, because there’s just no way this isn’t right.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>Not when Rachel barely pulls away and whispers a soft “I love you,” against Quinn’s lips.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>
        <em>
          <em>
            <em>
              <em>
                <em>No. There was absolutely nothing wrong about this.</em>
              </em>
            </em>
          </em>
        </em>
      </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I very much hope you enjoyed, comments and kudos are much appreciated as always !!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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